Matthew Parris

Matthew Parris

Matthew Parris is a columnist for The Spectator and The Times.

Saturday

Matthew Parris

The Tories should forget the party geeks and recruit normal human beings, with lives

GROUCHO Marx's disinclination to join any club which would accept him suggests a corollary that Groucho never mentioned: the club anxious to recruit just the sort of people who would not dream of joining. The Tories may be headed that way, and if they are not they should be. For its parliamentary candidates, the principal opposition should be actively seeking men and women who can show a clean record of non-involvement with the party. As their mass membership dwindles to a residue of the elderly, the sweet, the bored, the sad, the lonely, the obsessive and the mad, the point is being approached when proof of previous enthusiasm for the Conservative party ought to count against an applicant for inclusion on Conservative Central Office's approved list of would-be parliamentary candidates.

Saturday

Matthew Parris

Don’t let the facts interfere with a good war on terrorism

Until the collapse of communism, America's experience as a great power had been of a world in which there was always (as she saw it) one great evil in the universe, committed to her total destruction. She stood for more than national self-interest; she stood, she believed (and often rightly believed), for the forces of good. A Manichaean universe in which America captains the Army of Light while in the surrounding dark 'the hosts of Gideon/Prowl and prowl around', characterises her whole memory of power. That is not surprising. The Founding Fathers were (like fundamentalist Muslims today) in flight from what they saw as a fallen world. God, or destiny, had commanded America to start again. Being the New World was more than a matter of dates; it was a matter of innocence too.

Saturday

Matthew Parris

Ukraine is not dead yet – it thrives on vodka, black bread and pig fat

We had not expected a border post. This was not a border. Way over the other side of a high pass through the Carpathian Mountains lay Romania, but this small village nestling in a valley by a rushing river was in Ukraine, wholly in Ukraine, and we were anyway not taking the turning for Romania but continuing only a few kilometres more up a side valley to what our guides, Stas, Elena and Igor, said was a 'rough' mountain hostel. 'Not hotel - not hotel - understand?' said Elena, in the confrontational way of talking that an Englishman might mistake for anger, but is just the way Ukrainians, who are rather mild and helpful people, speak.

Saturday

Matthew Parris

To call it ‘rape’ is to debauch the language

In Manchester, a friend at university there tells me, a new word has entered smart parlance among the young. The word is 'raped'. The expression is moderately strong, and casual. It is a way of saying that one has in some way been done over, done for, or done in. 'I was completely raped,' a cool young Mancunian might remark, emerging from an examination in which the questions had proved impossible; or on discovering that something he had just bought was on sale much more cheaply elsewhere. My friend added that some women were complaining that to use a word like this so lightly was offensive, as if rape could ever be equated with everyday problems or setbacks. I see their point.